Tall Boy Smile
by IHeartRace9
Summary: Skittery is in love with this boy. This amazing boy. But it'll never work out. The boy would never think of him like that. All it seems he ever does is criticize his bad mood. So Skittery decides to go back to his original burrow, the Bronx. What ensues; tears of joy, tears of hurt, tears of pain, but eventually, a smile. Slash!


**Tall Boy Smile**

_By: IHeartRace9_

_Hey guys. I'm sorry. I know I owe you an explanation. I am really sorry that I haven't updated Brooklyn Turned Queen for a few weeks (a month?). First of all, I have done a lot of writing on it, and I planned out the whole rest of the story in very high detail. But the writing that I did just didn't seem very interesting. I think I was getting kind of bored with it, and I don't want to give you bad writing. But then I got this idea for a oneshot, and I decided to take a little break and write it. So that's what this is. I promise to go back to BTQ now. _

_Anyways, I love this baby, and I hope you do too. :D I own none of the characters but Bullet. Everyone else is Disney's. Hope you like it!_

* * *

"_Skittery… Skitts, wake up!"_

He felt the heat wash through him, even though it was a cold night. It came from the long awaited touch he'd only dreamed of.

"_Skittery, please. Can ya heah me?"_

He felt like he could fly. He wanted to throw his hands in the air and shout for joy. He was delirious with happiness. It had been so long.

"_Skitts, ya gotta wake up. Jus open ya eyes!"_

He felt the air change as he heard the voice. Then came the fists. Raining down. Names. Being screamed.

"_Dammit, Skitts, if youse die on me…"_

Where the hell was he?

* * *

"Skittery, wheah ya headed?"

The tall, lanky boy stopped his fast walk, and turned to see who had followed him.

"Skittery?" Blink asked again, catching up to him. Skittery didn't respond, and they walked together in silence.

"Ya wanna talk bout it?" Skittery glared, and Blink backed off.

"Fine, but Ise comin witcha." Skittery still said nothing, though he was secretly glad that Blink had come. It was nice that someone cared. Though not the person he'd hoped.

"So, ya gonna tell me wheah we're goin?" Skittery rolled his eyes, but finally spoke.

"Da Bronx." Blink's good eye widened.

"Ya goin back?!" Skittery, 'e didn't mean it! He was jus tryin ta-"

"Ise not goin back!" Skittery sighed. He hadn't meant to yell.

"Jus goin foah a visit." He could tell Blink was completely against it.

"Skittery, I can tell how upset youse are. But maybe ya should wait a while, and let yaself cool off?" Skittery's scowl deepened, recent memories surfacing.

"Dontcha remember, Kid? Ise always upset. I nevah have any fun, and Ise always in a bad mood, makin everyone else feel bad too." Blink sighed at the bitter words.

"Everyone says things dey don't mean when dey're hurt."

"He's hurt? I didn't do nuttin or say nuttin! He was da one who jumped on me!"

"He just wanted ya ta have a good time!"

"Whadevah."

They didn't speak again until they'd reached Skittery's destination.

"Skittery, dis is a bad idea. Very bad." Skittery turned to face his friend.

"Danks foah ya concern, Kid, butcha bettah go now." Blink paused, obviously debating what to do. Finally he nodded.

"Aright den. But you is comin back, aintcha?" Skittery nodded. Anything to make him leave. Blink shook eyed him worriedly, but ran off.

"If it aint Skittery, me ole pal." Skittery turned to see a very tall boy, practically man, leaning against the doorway of a newsies lodging house. The leader of the Bronx himself. His arms were crossed over his chest, and he was not smiling. Skittery's brother hadn't changed since the last time he'd seen him.

"Hey Bullet." The older boy walked down the steps and stopped right in front of Skittery.

"So. Why ya heah?" Skittery sighed. This was the point of no return.

"Ise back." Bullet's eyebrows rose.

"Really." Skittery nodded. Bullet continued to study him.

"Skitts, ya know why you was kicked out las time. Ya know dat I said bad things would happen if ya came back, and ya hadn't done sometin about yoahse, problem." Skittery gulped. When he'd told his brother about _him, _his brother had been furious. He'd told him that he'd expect something so low from some of his foundlings, but not from his own brother. Skittery had been banished. If he showed his face again, without giving all that up, he was basically dead.

"I knowse. Ise done." Bullet just looked at him. Then he broke into a little grin that brought back good memories to Skittery.

"Ya mean it." Skittery nodded.

"Dank God, Skittery." He pulled Skittery into a hug, and Skittery sighed, realizing how much he'd missed his brother's approval.

Bullet pulled away and gestured to the door.

"Welcome back, bruddah." Skittery slowly walked up the steps. He could still run. Shove past his unexpecting brother, and go back… Back to what? A world of hurt? A place where he was always in a bad mood, because the boy he loved showed no mutual affection for him. He just couldn't do it.

He walked through the door.

They were everywhere. The Bronx was known to be the burrow where the lowest of the low came to be newsies. They were pretty much all here, because no one else would take them. The only good thing about the bunch was that they were very loyal, especially to Bullet, as he had taken them in. So no one yelled, asking why the disgusting scumbag, Skittery, was here. They just waited for Bullet to speak.

"Me bruddah's made some mistakes in da past. Big ones. But," he added, keeping his leader face on, "he's done away widem. 'e wants ta be one of us again. Whadaya think?" The newsies looked around, trying to see everyone else's reactions. Eventually they all nodded, more or less. Bullet gave an appreciative smile.

"Aright, ya can go back ta whatcha were doin." They obeyed, and Bullet led Skittery upstairs. As they climbed Skittery took a few deep breaths. The room had started spinning, and he missed a step. Bullet grabbed one of his arms.

"Skitts?" He would have to hide for forever. He would never be happy.

"Skittery?" He was going to pass out.

"Ise getting a little dizzy. I think I needs some air." Bullet nodded.

"Ya shore ya aright?" Skittery nodded, trying to look normal.

"Ise had a long day. Could I take a walk?" Bullet studied him for just a moment, and Skittery knew he was trying to read him. But he nodded.

"Don't be too long, dough."

"A coahse! Just a shoat one." Bullet put his hand on Skittery's shoulder, and looked him in the eyes.

"Aright den. Ise trustin youse."

* * *

Skittery turned down an alley. Two more, and finally he came to his old spot. He'd always played in this alley when he was a kid, and only a couple of his friends knew of it. He slowly walked, running his hands on the brick walls. After this walk, he'd be his brother's. These were his last moments of freedom.

Skittery sank to the ground, sobs overtaking him, as reality set in. He clutched his knees, crying_. Crying like a baby_, he thought. But he had to get it out now. Now or never. Men didn't cry.

Skittery's body shook. It was getting late, and as the sky darkened, the temperature started dropping. It was getting chilly.

_Why? Why couldn't he like me? Why? Why was I made like this? So different. Am I just a, just a freak?_

"Skittery?!"

It was him. How had he found him? Blink. But why had he come? To yell? Spit in his face? … Apologize?

"Skitts, ya cryin?!" Skittery decided he wasn't going to refrain anymore. He had given this boy up, after all. He didn't care anymore.

"Whadayouse care, Racetrack?" He let the bitterness seep through, and Racetrack visibly flinched. He walked forward, and got down on his knees.

"Why ya heah, Skittery?"

"Family reunion," Skittery replied, glaring. Racetrack's eyes widened.

"Skitts, no." Skittery looked up, a flash of hope at the devastation so clear in Racetrack's voice. Then he remembered Bullet.

"Yeah, Race, I can't take any of youse no moah. Everyone, but specially youse is always bashin on ma mood." Racetrack took his hand. Skittery refused to acknowledge the tingles that went straight up his arm and throughout his entire body.

"Skittery." That was all he said, but Skittery heard it all. He was sorry. And possibly more?

"Ise sorry Race, but once I walk back to dat lodgin house, Ise Bullet's." Race's grip on Skittery's hand tightened.

"Skitts, ya shore? Youse could come back wid me…" Skittery heard the implications in Racetrack's voice, but only now. Had it been that way all along?

It didn't matter.

Skittery stood.

"I have ta go," he said. He turned to leave, every inch of his body hating himself.

"Wait. Ya not gonna say g'bye?" Skittery sighed, and then turned back around. _You can do it,_ he told himself.

"Bye," he whispered. Racetrack stepped forward, closing the distance between them.

"Bye," he replied, and leaned in, pressing his lips against Skittery's.

Shocked, utterly shocked, Skittery didn't respond at first. Then his body took over, finally receiving what it wanted. He kissed Racetrack back, knowing he had to make this one count. He felt goose bumps rise as Race's hands slid around his neck. Skittery placed his hands on Race's waist, every touch sparking a fire inside him.

Race broke away, and looked Skittery in the eyes.

"Skitts, I only evah wanted youse happy. I did care. I guess, a little too much." He brought his hand to Skittery's face and slowly caressed his cheek. Skittery moaned, and leaned into it.

"Racetrack, I love youse." He said the words without thinking. Racetrack smirked.

"Glad da feelin's mutual," and he kissed the tall boy again.

Footsteps.

"I trusted youse."

Skittery was shoved to the ground. He looked up, his brother glaring at him, with such a hatred that Skittery wanted to punch himself. Why had he done it? His brother was going to take him back! It was going to be like old times!

He got a punch in the face. And another one. He heard Racetrack scream his name, but he couldn't do anything. He had a newsie kicking him repeatedly in the gut, and his brother wouldn't stop punching him. Skittery felt anger ripple through his blood. But Skittery realized he wasn't mad at Bullet. He was mad at himself. He absolutely hated himself. It was all his fault. Why had he done this? Why? Why couldn't he be normal?!

"Fucking fagot! Let me at 'im, Bullet!" Bullet's second-in-command came around to Skittery, some kind of pipe in his hand.

"He trusted youse!" He slammed the metal into Skittery's ribs, and then again.

"Stop it, stop it, ya son of a bitches!" Out of the corner of his eye, Skittery saw someone sock Racetrack, and he let out a scream as Race collapsed to the ground.

He felt Bullet lift him up by his collar.

"Youse swoah ta me. And dis is whatcha do." Skittery had never seen his brother this hurt or angry.

"Youse no bruddah a mine." Then he smashed Skittery's head into the bricks.

* * *

"Skitts, don't leave me."

Skittery's eyes fluttered open.

"Race?" Racetrack swore in relief.

"Don't choo evah do dat ta me again, Skittery!" Skittery weakly squeezed Racetrack's hand.

"Don't count on it." Racetrack looked at him, eyes searching. Then he shook his head.

"Ya gonna get bettah, Skitts. Youse will, just wait!" Skittery shook his head slightly.

"Ya still love me?" Race nodded, eyes welling up.

"A coahse, ya dumbass."

"Show me." Racetrack closed his eyes, getting control of himself. Then he smiled.

"Gladly," and he carefully leaned in, one more time.

The kiss was more than Skittery had ever dreamed of. It was so perfect, and it tasted of pure beauty. The beauty of truth. Because they really did love each other, Skittery realized. And how could something this beautiful be a lie?

Finally, it ended.

"Dat was amazing." Racetrack smirked.

"Dere's plenty moah wheah dat came from."

And Skittery smiled. It was a small one, but it definitely counted. That, in and of itself, made Race cry.

"Is dat why youse was always so crabby? Ya jus needed someone ta love ya?" Skittery's smile grew, and he nodded ever so slightly, weakness setting in. He couldn't give up, but everything hurt so badly.

"Skittery! Stay wid me!" Racetack started blurring, going in and out of Skittery's vision. He grabbed onto both of Race's hands tightly.

"Racetrack, our love was jus as good as anybody's." He couldn't let Racetrack go through that fear. "Don't foahget dat."

He felt his life draining, and he drew his last breath, no longer seeing anything, or anyone.

The short Italian boy collapsed onto the tall and crabby boy that he loved. He was gone. Racetrack's tears seeped through the bloodied clothing, and worked their way into Skittery's bruised and lifeless body.

* * *

_I cried a lot writing that story. A lot. Please, let me know if you think that was way too melodramatic, or if you thought it was well written. I tried to get their characters right, so it'd be nice if you reviewed about that too! Hearts to you all! Thanx!_


End file.
